Great Companion
by Fridgeworks
Summary: When Joel Ward, AKA 'Sergeant', arrived home for vacation he expected to be greeted by his live-in mother and her dog then spend the next four weeks working out and not vacationing. And then there was Cub. Slash. Alex/Sergeant. On Hiatus indeterminably.
1. Bushwhack

The bus rumbled and bumped along the road that led out of the SAS training camp in Brecon Beacons, Southern Wales, heading to Cardiff and after that London. It was a four hour boring ride with no stops, if you had to go to the bathroom there was a cramped lavatory on board that smelled of week old shit any time of the day.

Joel Ward made the journey four times a year, taking a month's break twice a year to go back home to a quaint home with a nice view of the English countryside where his mother kept the house tidy and trained a Doberman/German Sheppard mix, aptly named Griselda, to hate the male species.

Every year, this one being no different, Joel hunched in his seat, ignored every other passenger getting time off for one reason or another, and fell asleep. He slept the entire ride, heedless of the bumps the bus jerked over or people making fools of themselves, preparing for a vacation of idiocy and no self-discipline.

The bus, rather ironically, always dropped most of them off before the Royal & General Bank on Liverpool to find their separate ways home and the rest somewhere else, Joel didn't know and he never bothered to find out.

This is where Joel would wake up, slowly and aware of his surroundings the second his eyes blinked open the first time, lumber off the bus, grab his duffel from under, and hail a taxi.

The drive to his house was always boring, he'd memorized it long ago and could recount everything that passed in perfect detail with his eyes closed, so he slept then as well. The driver woke him up when city turned to urban and they arrived at his small, cobble stone abode.

He payed the driver, grabbed his duffel from the trunk, and walked up the small, pebbled path, which his mother had bordered with spring flowers that year, to the door. Joel never had to knock on the door for his mother, a slim, dark woman with an insane amount of bushy black hair, held back most often by a solid colored ruffled hair tie, named Lois, because Griselda the hell hound always beat him to it.

A frenzy of harsh barking and fierce growls started the second Joel's boot clad feet met the 'welcome' mat before the door. The large black man sighed and rubbed his hairless head, he was going to put that mutt down when his mother was out shopping and gossiping with her friends one fine Saturday afternoon.

This is usually when a women's voice would soften the barks and growls and Joel would hear the lock click. His mother would open the door with a smile and 'Joel m'boy!' spoken in an accent born from her Mali roots mixed with the Queen's English being introduced when she was a mere 16 and just arrived to London.

Then Joel would smile back, say 'Mother' in a clipped tone from being too used to the SAS way of speaking, and he would be allowed inside where Griselda would ignore him with a haughty air and Lois would make a pot of tea and demand that Joel burn his dirty army fatigues because 'no son of mine is allowed to have a pair of those in his dresser when he can buy a new, perfectly clean pair before he goes back!'.

Usually. That is not what happened after the litany of man-hating barks and growls sounded from behind the closed door.

Instead of hearing his mother calm the beast, Joel tensed immediately upon hearing a male voice tell the dog to 'Kindly shut up' who promptly fell silent. The lock clicked, as it was supposed to, and the door opened with a flourish.

"Jo-!" -BAM-. Isaac didn't wait to see the identity of the man who opened the door, his training kicked in and before the stranger could finish saying his name he'd already slammed his fist into the torso and the stranger collapsed a few feet away.

"Mother?" Joel called out, ignoring the fresh round of barking he'd gotten out of Griselda and noting in the corner of his eye that the stranger had blond hair and tanned skin.

"Joel you're ho-!" his mother's head poked out from the doorway leading to the kitchen and she curt herself off upon seeing the mess in the entryway. "Oh dear, I probably shouldn't have sent him to open the door, eh?"

"Mother, who is he?" Joel asked in a calm, not-panicking voice and pointed to the crumpled male who, upon further looking, appeared no older than 20. "Should I be calling the cops now?"

Lois blinked then laughed in amusement. "Oh, honey, it's okay. Of course you wouldn't recognize him at first, he has been out of your life for six years now." She flapped a hand at him then frowned at the blond on the entryway floor. "Alex, dear, if you don't get up Griselda's going to mistake you for a toy and probably chew on your ear for a few."

"Yes'm." the male had a voice that rang bells in Joel's head, but he couldn't place the source. When the blond stood up with a wince, being punched in the torso with at least 20 pounds of force going at least 20 miles per hour was going to bruise for sure, he was only up to Joel's collarbone. "Hello, Sergeant."

Joel blinked. "Excuse me?" he asked and narrowed his eyes at the man standing a few feet before him. Blond hair, brown eyes, a face that made girls sigh… "_Cub_?"

"So you _do_ know him, I was having my doubts at first but he was being followed by a man with a knife, so I let him in, Griselda took care of the man, of course, and the kid said that he knew you from Becon Beacons, so I let him stay. I'm happy to hear he told the truth." Lois said in relief then smiled brightly. "Right, let's take this reunion to the kitchen, I put a pot of earl grey on and bought some of those double chocolate chip cookies that you loved so much as a kid, Joel."

Joel blinked, even his trained and hardened thought process was failing him in the face of this sudden, strange situation. So he fell back on his 'Sergeant' side. "State your name and business." He barked at 'Cub', who was still standing in front of him.

"Alex Rider; free loading off your mom for a couple weeks." Cub straightened his shoulders and looked directly in front of himself as he answered, Joel couldn't the nugget of pleasure that plunked itself in his heart at the sight that his training was still ingrained in the kid after six years.

Then he frowned.

"How did you find my house?" he asked, but Cub was saved from answering as Lois shouted from the kitchen.

"The longer you make me wait in here, the longer I'm letting Griselda go at you next time she feels like playing!" the dog growled in agreement as if she really understood and Joel narrowed his eyes in return.

"Dog doesn't scare me." He muttered under his breath and followed Cub into the kitchen where he intended to wring the boy of all the answers to his questions, among which was: What are you doing in my house? How did you find my house? Get out of my house. With a couple 'Fucking's and 'Hell's thrown in for emphasis.

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><p>Disclaimer: I don't own it. Any of it. Although, I would not mind owning the big black awesomeness that is Sergeant. *happysigh* I don't even own the name, if yah get what ah mean *nudgenudgewinkwink*<p>

This was a story born from an idea that should be a Sergeant/Alex ficlet, after discussing how much awesome Sergeant is made of with ObsessivelyOdd. I don't know how long this story will be, I do know that the mother won't be a big part, but the dog prolly will be. So go cry a river of happy. Mmmm'kay?

SLASH. No like-y, no read-y. Still read-y? Oh boo-hoo. Don't complain jus' cause it offended yer de-li-cuht sensibilities. Thaaaank _you_!

-Fridgeworks

p.s. why isn't the character 'Sergeant' up for the bidding? Jeez, you'd think in this world someone would've already thunk it.


	2. Shenanigans and Baulderdash

Joel woke in the morning to find that his mother had up and left, leaving a note on the kitchen table that informed the sergeant of her departure for the states to visit the President. Still muddled by sleep, Joel accepted the note as truth and set about making himself a bowl of plain cheerios and cut banana.

Halfway through his breakfast the man woke up and looked again at the note: "Bullshit!"

"What about bulls?" Cub, 'Alex Rider' Joel reminded himself, appeared in the doorway to the kitchen in rumpled pajama bottoms and heavy lidded eyes, stifling a yawn as he slumped into a seat across from Joel at the table.

Joel eyed the blond as he took a bite of cereal, swallowing without chewing. "What did you do to my mother?" he asked suspiciously, not letting his guard down around this seemingly lethargic man.

A sleepy chuckle escaped Cub, Alex, and he straightened a bit in his chair. "Couldn't you afford more comfy chairs? I'm waking up just from all the bits digging into my ass, and not the good way." He complained with a smile that betrayed his mask of annoyance.

Joel narrowed his eyes. "Answer the question." He said. "I have three professional interrogators on my speed dial that wouldn't mind coming over this early," it was, after all, 4 AM, "and two of them live just a block away." Cu-Alex grinned and grabbed the cereal box from across the table, ignoring Joel's hiss of 'manners!'

"Alright, alright. Jeez man, you're such a downer." He picked a cheerio out of the box and popped it into his mouth, following it closely by a second then a third and a fourth. Leaning back in the chair he'd slumped into, Cub-Alex continued eating the cereal out of the box, not minding the glares Joel was sending his way.

"Stop that." Joel finally snapped after a minute and a half of just watching the spy eat cheerios dry, slamming his hand palm down onto the table for emphasis. Cub-Alex didn't seem the least bit fazed, eyeing the sergeant in amusement as he popped another cheerio for a touch of rebellion. "I will personally castrate you with a hot rod if you do not answer me." Joel's voice was low and heated as he reached the end of his rope.

How the hell did MI6 find their operatives? Post an ad in the newspaper for all annoying individuals with no respect for private property and an irritating smirk? Joel was not happy.

People naturally respected his authority, be it in the SAS or in civilian clothing, the air about him oozed 'respect me or you will go down'. There was only a few occasions and a few people who could stand up to him, even his mother, dear mother, had to back down when he really meant it.

But Cub-Alex's smirk didn't even falter as Joel's palm slammed down onto the table. He remained slouched and calm. Infuriatingly so.

"You wanted to know where your mother is, right?"

Joel narrowed his eyes at the blond sitting across from him, not relaxing as it appeared the spy relented. "Yes. And you're going to tell me." He said using all the authority he'd learned to exercise as a sergeant in the SAS to demand the whereabouts of his mother.

"Well, you're going to have to ask nicer if you want to get anything from me." Cub-Alex said coolly. Joel watched cautiously as the spy stood up, set the cereal box back on the table and leaned across to grow uncomfortably close to Joel, his mouth beside the sergeant's ear. But Joel didn't back up, not one to avoid a challenge, and remained frozen where he was, glaring at the blond from the corners of his eyes.

"Never."

A snort escaped Cub-Alex and Joel smelled cheerios on his breath, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose at the sickly sweet scent. "Well, then, Joel Ward, you had better learn something." The spy whispered into Joel's ear.

"What?"

"I don't like bowing down to authority." A huffy laugh followed as Cu-Alex leaned back and collapsed into the seat he'd previously claimed, as though the phrase was an inside joke or held in it secrets that could only be heard if the listener knew the secret password.

Joel recovered from his surprise quickly, wiping all evidence of shock from his face in a matter of milliseconds and replacing it with a glare.

"I do not say 'please'." He said stiffly, it was true. The last time he'd said the 'p' word was when he was 14 and _needed_ the latest first-person shooter. He'd been enamored by the gruff-voiced awesomeness that was Solid Snake and refused to be anything less.

Joel Ward does not say please.

Alex Rider, apparently, has a will of steel and the patience of water: the perfect skill set to combat Joel Ward and his insistence on being acknowledged as the top authority in the building.

"I guess you're never finding out where your mother's gone then." Alex said offhandedly, popping a cheerio as he propped his bare feet up on the table top with a perfect air of nonchalance.

Joel's jaw tightened visibly and he fought to restrain himself from leaping across the table and throttling the spy. A smirk floated over the visage of the blond across from him, his irritation was not going unnoticed.

"I swear…" Joel trailed off, leaving the threat in his voice to speak for itself, narrowing his eyes again. Alex gave him an expectant look.

"I'm still waiting for my please." He said, smiling loftily and wriggling his toes.

"Get your dirty feet off my table!" the black sergeant practically roared, slipping into his training voice. Alex did just that. Joel blinked. Alex shrugged.

"Hey, it's cold anyways." He said and huff-laughed again, "too bad I don't have any socks." Joel just looked at him.

"What the hell does that-" he cut himself off, it really didn't matter, he had more important things to worry about. "I'm not saying p-puh…the 'p' word."

Alex grinned and grabbed a handful of cheerios, setting the box on the table again to pick the tiny 'o's out of his hand, "I figured as much. You seem to be quite stubborn."

"Where is she?"

"Just because I'm not making you say the 'p-puh…'p' word' anymore doesn't mean that I'll tell you whatever you want to know." The blond tossed the rest of the cheerios in his hand into his mouth and chewed for a couple of moments, then continued speaking. "Although…I suppose you might want to look over the note again. You may have missed something."

Joel looked at the note sitting by his neglected cereal bowl, noting absently he'd have to throw out the now disgustingly mushy milk saturated cheerios later, and picked it up. A flash of ink on the back caught his eye and he turned the paper over, eyes widening considerably as he read what his mother had written:

'Just kidding! I'm leaving for Mali, my mother called to say that my sister, you know the floozy, is finally settling down so I'll be gone for a couple months planning a wedding. Have fun with your fiancé while I'm gone! P.s. Don't forget to feed Griselda, and I scheduled an appointment for her next week at the groomers so don't waste my money and forget to take her.'

Joel heard the sound of his jaw hit the ground with a dull thump.

A chair was scooted back and footsteps neared the doorway to the kitchen, pausing there. "I suppose I should have mentioned yesterday that the cover for my mission, the one I told you I have a cover for, that concerns you, which is a duty you can't get out of by the way or so many lawsuits can be piled on your back, is us being engaged. Which, I'll have you know, your mother was not a bit surprised at, looks like someone didn't hide their gay porn well enough when they hit puberty."

Joel's eyes slowly left the note and travelled to where Alex stood, slouching his shoulders a bit in the doorway to the kitchen, a lazy smirk on his face. "You _Fucker_."

"And don't you know it." Huffy laughter.

Locked outside for the night and forgotten, Griselda began to howl incessantly.

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><p>Disclaimer: Do check the first chapter, I don't own anything but a signed copy of Snakehead (addressed to one 'mwaaaah' hurrrrrrr) and the first volume of the Alex Rider series. Nothing in between. I only wish I had a dog named Griselda, and I bet Anthony Horowitz does as well, but he doesn't. And I refuse to let him.<p>

There you have it. Chapter two of Great Companion. I'm beginning to fall in love with this story. How 'bout you? :D

Thanks so much for all the reviews I got for chapter one! And all the alerts and favorites! They really were a huge factor in motivating me to really try and get around to updating this, so think of yourselves as the second writers of the story I suppose. :)

On that thought, sorry it took so long to update in the first place, I have no better excuse than the fact that I had an incredibly important exam to take, one that took five hours to complete (AP World History for those who know what that is) and left me brain dead for a couple days. Forgive me?

Thanks for reading!

Fridgeworks


	3. The Unsociable Hate to Socialize

At 5 AM Joel dressed in a pair of sweats, a tatty shirt, worn out running shoes and left the house. He didn't tell the intruder of his house that he was going, where he was going (5 miles round trip) or when he'd be back (around 7 if he stopped to pee in a bush instead of at a public restroom off the route), merely dressed and left.

Joel felt no regret for not telling the spy of his morning plans, it wasn't like he was trying to hide it. Had the spy been in the kitchen or the living room and asked, Joel wouldn't refuse tell him. But Cub-Alex had escaped up to the guestroom he'd been placed in after an argument in sleeping arrangements after the initial declaration that Joel was engaged to him.

Cub-Alex had insisted that they ought to sleep in the same room and the same room if they were going to keep up the image that they were happily engaged. Joel countered by pointing out that there was no one in the house to walk in on the spy in the guestroom and wonder if they had a lovers spat, "It's not like my mother is here anymore to peep in on us through the key hole to make sure we're cuddling." were his exact words.

"But what if there are surveillance cameras?" Cub-Alex insisted. Joel refused to be swayed.

He could pretend to be engaged to the spy, if the mission he'd been told about was so important to the country, but there were boundaries that had to be set. The sergeant refused to fake intimacy when there was no obvious need for it. And were there really surveillance cameras, wouldn't they have already picked up on something wrong by the fact that Cu-Alex actually had to tell Joel they were engaged?

The spy had shut up quickly after that point was made. Suspiciously so, Joel reflected as he set a quick pace running down the street alongside a small public park. Cub-Alex hadn't argued much after that beyond weak points easily shot down by the SAS man as he was shoved into the guest room. It was something to investigate when he got back.

Joel paused at a crosswalk, jogging in place a little to keep up the rhythm he'd adopted at the beginning, and pounded the button to cross a couple times, each time being told to 'please wait' by a mechanical, tinny male voice.

"Hey! Joel, is that you?" a familiar, Russian accented voice exclaimed with some degree of evil glee and a hint of a cackle. Joel didn't bother turning around. "Yes, yes I do believe it is! You _bastard_, not calling the second you're back."

"Go back to your fruity little tea stand, Datsyuk." Joel said in a growl, eyeing the short Russian man who entered his vision from the left, jogging out of the exotic tea and coffee shop called 'Pavel's Delights' that Datsyuk had started years back and somehow kept in business. "I'm not in the mood for your antics, I get enough of that from my mother."

Datsyuk, a normal civilian by all means, cackled again, the man didn't know what a 'normal laugh' was. He was as bad as Cub-Alex with his huffy exhalations that supposedly passed as shows of glee. "Of course, of course," the small man said, "don't worry about it, I won't waste your time. Just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement!"

Joel froze, both feet rooted to the pavement and his head whipped around to stare near bug-eyed at Datsyuk. "Excuse me?" he said, voice monotone and dangerous as he slipped into 'sergeant mode'.

"You know, your engagement to the blond kid, Alex was it?" Datsyuk said, cocking his head to the side and giving Joel a look. "Your mother introduced me to him before you got back a couple days ago, nice guy. But he looks a bit young, you sure he's of age?"

Joel interrupted Datsyuk before he could go off on a tangent, voice still stuck on neutral and eyes no longer popping. "Hey, Datsyuk?"

"Yeah?"

"How many people know about this?" Joel's eyes narrowed all of a sudden and like that a switch was flicked, his body de-rooted itself from the ground and he took a threatening step towards the unfazed Russian.

Datsyuk took a moment to look up as he counted, lips moving soundlessly for longer than Joel liked. Much longer. Finally, Datsyuk looked back at Joel, still looking up though, and grinned. "Just me, Ryan, Ryan's wife Lola and my lovely girlfriend Patricia. Oh, and your mother I suppose, if you want me to count her." Joel raised his eyebrows.

"Is that all?"

Datsyuk paused again then shrugged, "Ummm, well, your mother may have spread the news to her gossip gals, she seemed pretty excited about it you know." Another pause, Joel felt like strangling his mother. When he next saw her… "Oh, and Lola and Patricia weren't told not to tell anyone, so I really can't put up a definite number. Sorry, man."

Joel crossed his arms over his chest and stared the Russian down. "Sorry, for what? Ruining my life and future? Oh no, it's okay. I forgive you." He said sarcastically, dropping from sergeant into annoyed sergeant-civilian.

Datsyuk gave him an odd look. "I didn't know you wanted to break the news to everyone that badly." He said then grinned and slapped Joel on the arm. "Good for you man, I'm glad to see someone's finally changed you for good."

"Yeah, I'm really disappointed," Joel muttered crossly, "Extremely so, I _really_ wanted to tell everyone myself-why isn't anyone shocked that I'm gay?" he couldn't let the charade go so easily, if Joel Ward was anything he was dedicated and if he decided that he was going to do something for his country. Then he damn well was going to.

The cheery Russian cackled. "Oh, there was never any doubt." He said and slapped the sergeant on the arm again, an action that was really starting to get on Joel's nerves. "Ever since your lonely years in high school, we all figured. Just wanted to wait until you decided to come out yourself. Good job, buddy, we're all proud of you."

Joel sighed inwardly but nodded gruffly. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He jabbed at the crosswalk button again, why was the damn thing not working? "I guess now isn't the time to announce that we're expecting a child?"

A delighted gasp and more cackling erupted from Datsyuk's end of the conversation. "Oh! That's wonder-wait a second." Somber silence fell and the Russian stared up into Joel's eyes, the receiving party fighting his urges to put the creature out of his misery and shove him in front of a bus. "Men can't have children."

"Technology makes everything possible, Pavel Datsyuk." Joel replied with a rather aloof air. It was the Russian's turn to narrow his eyes.

"_You're_ pulling my leg." He said accusingly. Joel shrugged.

"Maybe I am; it's certainly none of your business." The black drill sergeant narrowed his eyes right back then changed the subject. "Did…_Alex_, ever tell you the first time we hooked up?"

Datsyuk shook his head, eyes shining. "No, how?" he practically breathed the words. Joel wondered how he managed to get such a gossip for a friend.

"Well…" the crossing signal turned from red hand to white man walking and Joel straightened, "Hup, guess I can't. See you later, Datsyuk. Tell Patricia she still owes me a mattress."

Before the Russian could protest Joel jogged away, feeling eyes burning desperately into the back of his head. The man needed help.

…

The rest of his jog was peaceful and Joel arrived back home with a clearer head than he'd had before leaving the house, although he still didn't know what exactly to make of the 'Cub-Alex Situation'.

Checking his watch Joel noted that it was almost 8 O'clock, later than he usually got back due to Datsyuk's meddling. Opening the door to his house, the black man figured Cub-Alex was aware of his absence.

"Where were you?" the blond demanded, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen. Joel gave him an irritated look and kicked off his shoes in a corner by the door.

"What right do you have to know my whereabouts at all times?" he said, shoving past Cub-Alex into the kitchen where he stripped his shirt and grabbed a towel off a rack beside the china cupboard to wipe off sweat from his torso and arms, throwing the shirt onto a chair as he did so.

The spy's eyes followed his every move as he dried himself, from broad chest to biceps to collarbone and bald head. Joel snorted; of course he'd pay attention.

Damn spies have to notice everything. Even if they seem incredibly gay doing so, he'd noticed after years of sometimes working, against his will, with MI6 and their group of wonder boys and girls. It got pretty annoying after a while, being constantly watched and observed.

"I'm serious, where were you?" Cub-Alex repeated, brown eyes flickering up to Joel's face then back to where hand and towel were pressed to naked torso. The sergeant threw the towel at the chair where he'd previously deposited his shirt.

"You're the attentive spy, you tell me." He said as he moved to the tea cupboard and grabbed a box of Earl Grey and a green, camo themed mug his mother had gifted him several Christmases past. He set them on the counter and filled a pot with water, lighting the stove and setting the pot to boil.

Looking back at the spy, who was standing in the doorway still where he'd earlier shoved him aside, Joel was surprised to see a blush stain tanned cheeks. Out of shame, Joel supposed, that he had to be caught in a slip up by a supposedly lunk-headed SAS drill sergeant. Couldn't be helped, the man reasoned, Cub-Alex was young in the spying world.

Everyone made mistakes.

"Jogging." Cub-Alex said abruptly. "You were…jogging." He choked a bit on the words at first then recovered quickly and repeated them. Joel 'hmm'd and leaned down to retrieve the earlier discarded shirt and towel.

"Bulls eye, aren't you just so good." He said bitingly, "Took you long enough, Mr. Bond." He began walking past the spy again, intent on moving to the laundry room, when a hand on his arms stopped him. The sergeant looked at the spy without a word.

"I'll take that for you, go sit, rest." The blond told him, a command in his voice that made Joel smirk.

"What's got you being so nice all of a sudden?" he asked mockingly. "I thought you were all about humiliating me and making my life a living hell? Why stop so soon, you were doing so well." The hand released him as if his skin had turned scorching hot and Cub-Alex huff-laughed.

"True, true." He said, nodding as if in full agreement with the other man. "I'll just let you do your thing, I'll do my thing. We'll do our things. Separately, of course." There was that blush again, this time though Joel had a pretty good idea on what caused the embarrassment.

He nodded slowly once and took a step towards the laundry room, a door just a couple feet from the kitchen, "Right, you do that."

"I will. I will." Cub-Alex nodded a couple more times and moved quickly, fluidly, Joel couldn't help but notice, and with all the grace and quiet that came with being a fuck-annoying spy, to sit down at a chair. "Have fun…doing laundry. The dryers still going, my stuff, but it should be done soon. Do be careful when opening the washer."

Joel nodded slowly again. "Okay." He didn't need to know half the things the spy was shooting out of his mouth, weren't spies supposed to be prone to silence? It seemed that the almost sadistic man from that morning had been replaced by an unsure, nervous wreck. Joel wondered at the change.

Opening the door to the laundry room brought no surprises, it was as cleanly kept as always and nothing was out of place. The only noise was the soft rumble of the dryer, a couple clinks that sounded like loose change occasionally could be detected above the steady drone, while the washer was completely silent.

Joel was almost disappointed, the way Cub-Alex had carried on had him expecting a disaster in the least, perhaps a couple stray grenades with the tabs intact of course, maybe some incriminating evidence against the spy.

But there was nothing.

A breath he hadn't known he was holding in escaped loudly and Joel reached for the door to the washer, ready to throw in the towel and shirt, maybe also his socks if he felt like it then leave it for later when he'd have more laundry.

Still nothing.

Reassured now that Cub-Alex had been a freak over nothing, Joel pulled open the washer door.

Something jumped at him.

"Agh!" Joel yelled as he slammed the thing into the floor, redirecting its course to his face with one fist and Alex skidded into view.

"You okay?"

Joel kicked at the thing on the ground, making sure it stayed down even after being sucker punched and aided by gravity to the floor. "What the hell is this?" he demanded. It looked like a cyborg cat, fur torn away in parts to reveal shiny metal and two legs missing, leaving sparking wires in their places.

"Oh, that. I did tell you to be careful when opening the washer." Cub-Alex said coolly, grabbing a metal handled broom from where it rested against the wall and spearing the creature on the tip. "I was keeping it in there to contain it until it ran out of juice and I could just tear it apart."

Joel stared at the spy in disbelief. "And you didn't tell me?" slim shoulders shrugged.

"I knew you could take care of it if the damn thing had enough energy to still attack." Was the explanation given, "Excuse me, I have a box waiting to be filled all addressed to someone who will dispose of it properly." The spy sidled past Joel and into the living room.

"I hate spies." Joel muttered murderously as he shoved the towel and shirt into the washer, slammed the door shut, eyed the dryer suspiciously and went back into the kitchen.

"There enough water in there for two?" Cub-Alex called out from the living room as Joel deposited a tea bag in his mug then added hot water. He shot a glare in the direction of the spy and sat at the table, nursing the hot drink.

"Yes. For Joel and Joel."

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><p>AN: Yay, I've updated! Sorry I'm a bit late, I was at a San Jose Sharks vs. Vancouver Canucks game up in San Jose. (Canucks lost, sadly, 4 to 3 but they'll win tomorrow for sure :D) We left our home at 5 AM on Friday to drive 8-9 hours north just to get there and this morning left the hotel around 7.30 or 8 to drive back south, I got home around 8 PM today and while I was pretty tired from the drive and my voice is shockingly not lost after all the screaming I went through last night, I settled down at my trusty Toshiba lappy to get this out. :)

Thanks for all the great reviews for the second chapter! They were really inspirational, as were the alerts and favorites. I'll try to get around to responding to reviews, but prolly not today since I'm a bit dead. (Sorry!)

Anywaaays, I hope there's still faith out there for this fic and I can only say that it was my awesomeness that kept the world from ending today at 6 PM where I live, so be thankful and send me lots of love. (Did anyone else not even notice that the time for the 'world to end' passed them by without them noticing until someone else pointed it out? Yup, that's me...)

By the way, how did the scene between Datsyuk and Joel seem? Was it any good? Helpful tips are helpful! (And highly appreciated. *hint hint*)

Love you all! (but not equally, never equally. :P)

-Fridgeworks


	4. Suki Janai Kedo Aishiteru

Pre-Chapter A/N: I'm in Vermont.

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><p>Cub-Alex's head popped out from around the corner, "Are you sure? Because I could have sworn I heard it fill up to the near toppy." Joel stared back at him.<p>

"'toppy'?" he asked. Cub-Alex shrugged and disappeared again, the sound of rustling paper bags and scissors cutting busily could be heard seconds later.

Joel paused, wondering for a moment and even debating whether or not he should ask. Following his base instinct, and base mistrust of anything the spy would tell him if he did choose to ask, he poured himself a cup of tea.

"Never answered my question, you did." Cub-Alex popped around the corner again, this time gesturing with a pair of small sewing scissors in hand.

"Don't wave those around, and I most certainly did." Joel replied, taking a cautionary sip of the tea. It was scalding. Just how he liked it.

Blond eyebrows furrowed and brown eyes flickered up as Cub-Alex recounted the past conversation. "No, no I don't believe you ever did." He paused then focused back on the sergeant. "If you were doing one of those read between the line tactics, you fail. Miserably."

"I wasn't."

"Good, because all I would get is 'you want to be the jockey tonight?'." He flashed a grin. "And we just aren't that far into our relationship, maybe a couple. Then we'll discuss." He pointed the scissors at Joel's cup. "Too hot? I like hot. Well…can't actually say that."

Joel pursed his lips and tilted his head a degree. "Excuse me?" he asked. Cub-Alex laughed, albeit a bit nervously, and winked far more saucily than Joel was bodily comfortable with.

"I'm engaged to you." With that last jab Cub-Alex popped back into the living room and Joel turned back to his tea. Taking a gulp, the army man stared out the kitchen window, where Griselda was staring right back at him.

As he and the dog engaged in a fierce staring contest, Cub-Alex finished whatever it was that he'd been doing and the front door opened. Something heavy dropped onto the front step and the door closed.

Footsteps reached the kitchen but Joel didn't turn to watch as Cub-Alex wandered in.

"You realize I was calling you ugly, right?" the spy collapsed lazily into a chair, reaching over to grab Joel's cup. His hand was smacked away and Joel finally turned and fixed him with a glare.

"That's my tea, not yours, and yes, I did get that you were insulting me." He growled. "Don't you have a madman to spy on or something? And really, my _washer_?"

Cub-Alex at least had the decency to look startled at the sudden venom in Joel's voice. "I'm sorry, but I had to do that." He said, narrowing his eyes at the sergeant. "What's got you pissed all of a sudden?"

Joel turned away. "I'm not pissed. I'm tired." he grumbled then whipped back around to stare accusingly at Cub-Alex, asking aloud a question that had been bothering him, "Where did you sleep when mum was here?"

"What's with the interrogation?" Cub-Alex pursed his lips in a pout and stood up. "In your bed, of course. What was I supposed to tell your mum? She thought we were engaged, it's only reasonable that I would sleep in your bed."

"…whatever." Joel sighed and turned away. "Whatever." Why couldn't life be like the training camp? Everyone did what he said, no question no complaint. And if they questioned or complained? Kitchen duty, a couple hours of sprinting, more Killing House, really whatever punishment he felt like inflicting upon the stupid soldier.

But he couldn't just send Alex to go run 20 laps. The spy likely would just laugh that annoying huffy laugh he had as if it was all just some huge joke being played by the universe. The funniest joke there ever was.

"Are you okay?" Cub-Alex's voice shook him from his thoughts, did Joel detect real concern? "Is is that time of the month?" He asked it like he'd just figured some big secret out, a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

So much for concern. Joel growled and drank from his cup silently, not giving the brat anymore ammo to mock him.

Peering from the corners of his eyes, Joel was surprised to see Cub-Alex not smirking anymore. He was staring down at his bare feet with a beaten puppy look. Joel hrmphed and drank down the rest of his tea, slamming the cup down onto the table when he was done, noting with sadistic pleasure the very visible start the sound caused Cub-Alex.

"Does my mother know what you do for a living?" he asked, changing the subject. Cub-Alex looked up and the expression was gone, replaced by a small grin.

"No, not really." he said.

Joel narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I told her I work at the bank right now, and the reason I was being chased that night I came here was because an old enemy of yours wanted to target that which was closest to you," the grin grew. "Me!"

Joel stared at him. "She...actually bought that? From a complete stranger?" Cub-Alex nodded with a shrug.

"I guess she really wanted you to settle down, eh?" he laughed, like it was some joke.

"Has, since I hit adulthood." Joel sighed and drank the last of his tea down. "Who knows why." he stood abruptly then and gave Alex a level stare. "I'm going to _my_ room, to work on something. If you need something...kindly piss off."

And so he left the kitchen, heading upstairs and locking the door of his room behind him, although who knew how much help a mere civilian lock would get him in keeping the spy out if he really wanted, leaving a rather dumbfounded Cub-Alex behind.

"Way to switch personalities on the drop a hat!" the blond called up after him. "You sure it's _not_ that time of the month?"

Up in his room, Joel shucked off his sweatpants and collapsed backwards onto his bed, wearing only his underclothes, boxer-briefs. Crossing his arms to support his head, Joel stared blankly up at the ceiling, he had nothing to do.

"Dammit." he swore and sat up, rubbing his bald head. There was really nothing to do in his room, it was as minimalist as a room could get. There was a dresser in one corner, by a window overlooking the backyard, that was only large enough for all his SAS gear and a couple interchangeable civilian outfits, a desk he never used alongside the wall opposite the door and his cot sized bed, shoved into another corner and covered with two blankets and one pillow.

Joel didn't like technology, like computers or televisions, it distracted one from training and well being, he didn't like reading unless it was an instruction manual or a rule book and he didn't frequent his room often in the first place. The SAS sergeant preferred going outside to run in the park or work out at the local gym, he had a premium membership, and if either of those things didn't work out, he could always head over to the shooting range and break a personal record.

Needless to say, having told Cub-Alex that he had something to work on up in his room was a bit of a foolish thing, the spy probably knew the truth since he'd been inside to look around, even sleep, himself. But Joel didn't want to go back downstairs, that would be like admitting defeat, and if Joel ever had a motto, it would be: Never admit defeat.

So he fell back on the bed and tried to occupy himself by alphabetizing firearms in his head.

It was at _Beretta Pistol-96 series-96 Brigadier _that a knock on the door shook him from the reverie he'd fallen into. Joel sighed, there was only one person that could be, and heaved himself off the bed. "Yes?" He asked, opening the door to Cub-Alex, who was smiling like the cat that got the cream.

"Hungry?"

Joel looked at the spy suspiciously. "Why?"

Cub-Alex shrugged. "No reason, I noticed that all you had for even a semblance of 'breakfast' was tea and it's almost 10 as is," he made as if to peer around Joel's shoulder into the room, the sergeant blocked the effort. "Plus, who knows what you were doing up here, since there is no form of 'work' that I can think of since I was last up here that you could be working on."

"I don't trust you." Joel said, narrowing his eyes. Cub-Alex stared wide-eyed up at him, the perfect picture of a perfect, innocent little angel. The blond head of hair, all messy and twisted about his head helped.

"Whatever for..._Darling_?" He asked with a smile and a tilt to his head. Joel's grip around the door handle tightened considerably as he gritted his teeth. _Must resist urge to yell._ He chanted in his thoughts.

"Well, _Alex_, you seem not able to remember that based off our previous encounters we don't get along, and nor do I particularly enjoy your company." Joel smiled as well, albeit a very forced one that twitched to be replaced by a scowl and a deep frown. "In fact, right now, _Alex_, I wouldn't be surprised to find that you poison any food I might consume for breakfast."

Cub-Alex blinked, as if he was startled by the pure, unadulterated venom in Joel's voice, but then the carefree mask was back and the smile in full-shine. "Oh, _Darling_, you know I would never poison your food!" he said. "After all, aren't I the one making all the effort in this relationship? Don't you have any patriotism?" Joel grunted, smile gone, it was too much trouble to try and keep it up when they both knew it wasn't real.

"Patriotism, I have plenty," he sniped back, "Love, however, for another man, is a different story. _Alex_." was it just him, or did Cub-Alex restrain a recoil? Eh, it was probably just his imagination.

"Oh, come on, as if you've never experimented." Cub-Alex gave him a knowing smile, to which Joel was rather confused. He was going rather far for a mission they only had to act in when outside in public or with company.

"No, no I have not." Joel replied, straightening his shoulders and looking down at Cub-Alex. "I am proud to be a straight, tall, Brit, working as a SAS soldier." The spy seemed to deflate a little after the announcement, Joel didn't bother to wonder at the reason.

"Oh well, I'm glad we've straightened that out." Cub-Alex said with a grin. _Why?_. The spy turned halfway, as if to go back downstairs, then turned back. "Oh, I forget to say why exactly I came up here."

"Why?"

Cub-Alex adopted the 'cat-got-the-cream' smile again. "I figured that since you're probably hungry, as much as you don't want to admit it, I searched through the contacts book next to the phone in the hallway and called all your friends over for lunch. Pot luck style, I'm rather horrid at cooking myself. That okay?"

Joel froze, staring wide eyed at the now departing spy like a deer caught in headlights. By the time he'd recovered, Cub-Alex had already made it down the stairs and out into the relative safety of the backyard, from the sound of the backdoor opening and closing. Likely to feed the beast.

Grumbling rebelliously as though he were an awkward teenager again, Joel turned and slammed his door shut with all the strength he could muster without breaking the door right off it's hinges. "I _hate_ spies." he muttered heatedly.

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><p>AN: Hey...yeah, sorry about that [very] long wait. I could make up a ton of excuses, that would sound believable (Like: I was sick or I was injured or I'm dead or I got abducted by aliens)...since, you know, none of you know me in real life (eheh), buut, I guess I'll tell the truth: I was fucking abducted by aliens.

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p.s. thanks for all the reviews and watches! (I feel like singing every time I see a new email in my account)


	5. I Am Not Your Broom

A/N: I'd like to apologize beforehand for the poop simile. I don't know where my mind was.

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><p>Joel was furious, to say the least. Hands clenched so tight his knuckled turned an alarmingly pale shade, jaw twitching and brow resembling the deeply cut furrows of a corn field.<p>

"I did not ask him to pretend that he was engaged to me for a _mission_," he spat under his breath, facing the door to his room with a glare so fierce the wooden, movable slab seemed to shudder. "I did not ask him to inform my friends that I am gay." He turned away from the door and kicked at the metal frame of his bed, feeling a toe crack and ignoring the pain. No, he reveled in the pain, smiling with tight lips as nerves informed him the status of his middle toe.

"I did not ask him to stick a robot beast into my washer." Whipping away from the bed, Joel restrained himself from punching a wall. Broken toes were simple to deal with, splint and fixed, broken hands however actually meant he needed to go to the hospital. "I did not ask him to change attitudes at the drop of a hat." That struck a chord especially, one minute the spy would be all coy and shy, like a little virgin on his first night and the next he'd be all self-confidence to fill ten pools, flashing dazzling smiles and acting like the most experienced porn star.

Joel paused in his tirade of hate, blanking a bit as he registered the train wreck that his mental tirade had become. He didn't use metaphors like that, and nor did he think that _Cub_'s smiles were dazzling. Because they weren't.

Then the sergeant's face twisted, and he looked like he was having the most difficult shit in the world. All point pieces ripping at his insides and splitting his rectum as it was forced painfully out, streaked with blood and green particles from who knows where because he sure as hell hadn't eaten any vegetables the day before.

But he wasn't actually taking a shit. No, Joel was, in fact, considering the reasons why he would think that _Cub_'s smiles were dazzling. For about 5-6 minutes Joel stood there in the middle of his room, ignoring the pain in his toe as he rested his weight and puzzled over the damnable creature downstairs, likely wreaking his dryer with a robot dog beast.

He came up with nothing. There was virtually _no_ reason for him to have thought that Alex's smiles were dazzling. None. At. All. So_ why_? A headache began to bloom into being behind Joel's eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

_Dear God, I hate my life._ Joel blinked and shook his head. _No, I hate his life._ A hefty sigh and Joel was moving again, ignoring the pain in his toe as he moved to the door and opened it, intent on retrieving his headache pills from the bathroom and retreating back into his room until his 'friends' got here.

Which reminded him, pausing with one hand on the door knob, door cracked open about 90 degrees, Joel furrowed his brow again. Cub-Alex had never thought to tell him when his 'friends' were arriving.

One uncaring shrug of his shoulders later Joel was on his way down the hall and into the bathroom. Where he came face to face with Cub-Alex, who was leaving. Well, it was more of a face to collarbone in Cub-Alex's case.

"Shit, what the hell are you doing up here?" Joel growled, shoving the spy backwards with a palm to the shoulder, ignoring the feeling that tightened his chest when he saw the hurt look on Cub-Alex's face before it was wiped off and replaced by an impish grin.

"I heard you kick, I'm guessing, the bed and you don't have any shoes on." He said with a light-hearted shrug. "Thought I'd come up and help bandage the boo-boo." Then he flashed one of his dazzl-annoying smiles.

Joel grunted. "I can bandage my own toe." He made to pass but the spy mirrored his steps and remained in his way. Supposing it was one of those, both people move accidentally in the same direction, Joel paused and waited for Cub-Alex to step aside. Irritation flickered when the spy remained still as well.

"I don't think you can." He said cheerily, brown eyes sparkling with something Joel was not interested in interpreting. So he moved to the other side and glared when Cub-Alex once again mirrored him.

"I. Can. Bandage. My. Own. Toe." He spoke loudly, enunciating each word at the same time as a shift to the side. The spy didn't pause, if anything that da-annoying smile grew.

"But it's not just that toe that's hurt." He said, concern coloring his voice. Joel pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.

"Yes it is." Why was the damned creature _persisting_?

The sergeant's instincts acted before his mind had time to register what was happening, and was he ever thankful for that. His foot whipped out of the way just as the heel of Cub-Alex's shoed foot came down on the spot it had just been occupying. Joel openly gaped at the spy now. "What the hell!"

"Damn, good reflexes." Cub-Alex sighed and scratched his head. "Guess the cat's out of the washer." He gave a nonchalant shrug and Joel gave him a look.

"Do not turn that into an expression. And what the hell are you talking about?"

There it was again, white teeth flashed and Joel resisted the urge to squint against the daz-annoying gleam that was Cub-Alex's smile. The huffy laugh included for extra irritation. "I need you not to leave the house, what better way than to break more toes? Keep you from _walking_." He said 'walking' through his teeth, hissing in a lower decibel than the rest of his admittance.

"…are you on drugs?" it was the only excuse Joel thought could explain Cub-Alex's strange behavior.

The spy smiled and murmured something under his breath that Joel didn't catch. "Excuse me?" He asked.

Cub-Alex shook his head, speaking in a sing-song voice. "Not telling!" and then he was stepping to the side of the hallway that Joel was not occupying gestured grandly for the sergeant to pass. "Carry on, wayward son."

Giving Cub-Alex a suspicious look, Joel sidled carefully past him and into the bathroom, where he promptly closed and locked the door, as if that would deter a stubborn spy. Listening closely, Joel was satisfied to hear feet clomp back down the stairs and click onto the kitchen tile.

Threat gone, Joel opened the medicine cabinet and downed a couple aspirins for the headache. That done he dug around for a few seconds in a big basket of bandages, foam-lined metal splints, cold compresses and Band-Aids to grab of the very small metal splints and sticky bandage tape.

Items retrieved, Joel put the lid down on the toilet and sat down, grabbing his foot and propping it up on the other leg. His toe was not a happy toe, already swelling and turning garish colors Joel sighed and braced himself for what had to come next.

He felt up the toe gingerly, trying to figure out what kind of fracture he'd inflicted on himself and concluded in the end that it was a clean break. Of course, it might as well be a spiral fracture for all Joel knew about feeling up broken bones.

Out in the field you didn't care about the type, just about getting it still and splinted. You let the medics worry about the rest later, when the mission was over, aborted or you'd been captured and the captors were stupid enough to put everyone in the same cell.

_I could just go to the hospital, avoid 'them' altogether. _Joel mused, letting go of the toe to grab the splint and eye its size compared to the toe. _Sticks'd work better. _ He ended up concluding, splint was still too big, meant for a big toe not one of the small middle ones.

But Joel didn't want to go fetch sticks from the backyard, the demon possessed dog was still barking and growling out there, likely foaming at the mouth as well. That was just so troublesome. So he looked around the bathroom for two like sticks of something that he could break smaller and use.

_Toothbrushes._ His eyes alit on the cup that everyone, even Cub-Alex now, shared for placement of the toothbrushes. And, luckily, all three of them were the flat, nondescript handle kind. Reaching over and grabbing two, Cub-Alex's and his mother's, Joel snapped the head off both then eyeballed the length he'd need to splint the toe and broke them down to that size.

Snapping the handles to the same length wasn't very easy and Joel ended up with one a bit too short and the other around the length he needed it. It would have to do.

He placed the shorter one on top of his toe and the longer one beneath, holding it gingerly there and, ignoring the stabs of pain, grabbed the bandaging tape. Ripping a reasonably sized strip and halving that, Joel attached it to the top brush handle and slowly wrapped it around the toe, keeping the 'splints' from moving as he tightened it.

Then it was over. His toe hurt like a mother fucker and he sounded a bit like a snake, teeth clenched together but still breathing with his mouth and lips pulled back, but Joel had done it. He splinted his own broken toe.

_Was I supposed to set the break?_ He wondered after, but only for a second. Mentally shaking the thought away, Joel stood and experimentally rested wait on the injured foot, jerking it back up immediately. "Fuck, it _hurts_." So much more than before. Before he could at least walk on it, now it felt like he was dipping the toe in acid with every step.

"Are you okay?" Cub-Alex's voice drifted in from outside the door. "You've been in there for a while and your friends will all be here soon." "I. Am. Fine." Joel growled through his teeth, "Go. Away."

"No, I think I'll wait for you to get out. I have to pee."

"Pee. In. The. Bushes."

"No, I don't I will. I like to be civilized in civilization as a citizen." Cu-Alex chuckled. Joel rolled his eyes, good God.

"Fine." he grumbled and pressed a hand the the wall to support himself as he limped to the door. "There, bathroom's all yours. I'm going downstairs." He opened the door and gave Cub-Alex a good, hard glare before passing him, watching the spy's feet in case he tried anything.

"Nice splint, are those toothbrush handles?" Cub-Alex called humorously after him.

Joel turned and smiled sweetly. "Yours." he said, turning back around and set about making the laborious journey down one flight of stairs. Behind him Alex started laughing.

Joel didn't like watching football. He just didn't like watching sports. He didn't like having people over. He didn't like having people over to watch sports and drink beer. Even if they were his friends.

They were all seated on the couch in the living room in front of his mother's prized '40 inch flat screen tv' (it's _HD_ Joel! His mother had proudly announced when she'd bought it.) watching a game of football and Joel was really fighting the urge to strangle the blond spy easily chatting up one of his buddies from school, Ryan Kesler. Three people had made it, well only three people could really be counted as Joel's friends: Kesler, Datsyuk, and Lorenzo Jones.

Kesler had brought a case of beer, grinning as he came in the door to slap Joel on the back and congratulate him and Alex. Datsyuk also brought beer, saying that he'd thought everyone else would bring food, and gave Joel a sly, knowing look out of the blue when Alex had popped up to ask him where the salad dressing was. Jones brought a bag of chips.

Cub-Alex had made beef kabobs for everyone and winked when he said that he'd made something special for Joel. Joel complained that he _liked_ kabobs, he didn't want Alex to go through any trouble for him! Alex just grinned and winked again. There was something wrong with his eyelid, Joel decided.

After pleasantries and introductions, Joel noted with suspicion that Jones had stared at Alex longer than normal and held his hand a second too long, everyone gravitated towards the living room where Alex had turned on the tv and found a good game of football.

"So, Alex, how old are you?" the question came out of the blue from Datsyuk during a commercial break and between chips.

"20-ish." the spy replied smoothly with a grin. "Joel's a cradle robber." Joel began to protest but Kesler interrupted.

"How old were you when you first met him? You must have some history to be engaged at 20. But we've never heard him mention your name." he asked, ever the interrogator. Kesler worked for the local police department, the poster child of all that was good and righteous. Alex laughed, but not his huffy one. That one seemed to be reserved for when he was making a fool out of Joel.

"I was 14." he said and looked over at Joel with shining eyes, the sergeant was rather impressed. He was quite the actor. "I met him at a week-long camp I went to, he was the evil instructor from hell."

"Joel was a camp instructor?" Jones asked, looking over at Joel with slight disbelief. "I thought you hated working with kids?" Joel nodded, trying to get into the role he was, well, playing.

"Still do. My mother forced me into it when I was on leave for a broken leg." he agreed, grasping for anything that made sense. "I hated it and all the kids hated me. Especially Alex."

Alex nodded, a brilliant smile on his face. "Yeah, I hated him alright." then he laughed and Joel forced a smile.

"He was always doing the littlest things get at me," Joel chuckled, it sounded rather dry but it would have to do, and elbowed Cub-Alex with the intent to get in a cute little jostle, earning himself a foot to the injured toe and smiling through the burst of pain. "One time he swiped a pack of matches off me during a camping exercise when they had to make their own fires."

Alex smiled sweetly at Joel's pained smile. "Oh, yes, that time." He laughed and it sounded genuine, Joel was impressed. The kid was good, he's give him that. "You'd never specified how we were supposed to build our fires, and you _had_ intentionally sent me on a second round of the obstacle course because I finished it too quickly."

"I _hated_ you." Joel laughed through clenched teeth, Cub-Alex joined in, giving him a gentle smack to the back.

"I and you."

"Well, how did you guys end up screwing?" Kesler asked, leaning forward with a rapt expression. "Don't tell me you were really a cradle-robber, I'd have to report you." He didn't sound very remorseful about reporting Joel for pedophilia.

If it could go any brighter, Cub-Alex's smile certainly did. "That, Ryan, is the best of them all," he turned to Joel, an evil glint sparking in his warm brown eyes. "So I'll let Joel tell, he's the best at it, really." Joel frowned.

"But, Alex, we'd agreed earlier that you would, since I told Mother and all." He said, warning etched into the furrows of his brow. No way in hell was he fabricating a tale of when he and the spy started shaking the bed together, regardless of how well he could imagine it.

No way.

Alex nodded acquiescence with a sly smile and turned back to the rest, Kesler paying close attention, Datsyuk watching the TV out of the corner of his eye and Jones munching on chips and nodding at regular intervals.

"It's pretty funny, really, how it happened." He began, starting to lean into Joel's side. Joel subtly repelled him with a tensed arm and a smile and he straightened casually. "I was on a mission in the Sahara, running through the sands from persistent attackers, I'd stolen information from them and they wanted it back. I was thirsty, dehydrated is a better way to say it, and exhausted. My last wink of sleep had been so long ago in a hot, arid cell full of bugs and horse excrement. I was practically dead on my feet.

"My vision was beginning to blur, my feet were burned and blistering as I ran over sandy dunes, and I was about ready to surrender if only for the reprieve death would bring from my torment. Drawing breath for one last mad dash up and over what I believed to be the last dune I would ever cross, I heard a sound different from my own harsh breathing and the sound of my pursuers. Thinking it was more people out for my blood and the secrets I held, I gave up and threw myself down to await a bullet to the head, I was cornered. But that's not what I got.

"Instead of death I got reinforcements. A troop of SAS men on vengeance bringing desert jeeps had reached me just when I'd thought there would be no help ever coming. MI6 doesn't tend to help out a spy in need-they're strong believers in Darwinism. Joel was among the men that rescued me, he jumped out of the jeep, sending his men ahead to battle the demons and kneeling by my side to deliver precious water and looking like an angel from heaven doing so." Alex looked at Joel, an adoring smile on his lips and a softness around his eyes. "I fell in love right there and then."

Kesler gaped. "…SAS? Spies? MI6?" he asked. Joel mirrored the expression.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. Alex laughed.

"I'm just kidding," he grinned and smacked Joel's shoulder again, earning himself a glare, then turned back to Kesler. By this time Datsyuk, too, was listening in rapt attention and Jones had at least stopped eating so mechanically. "The real story is so much more boring. I thought I'd spice it up a bit."

Joel interrupted then, who knew how much the abominable blond would spill if he was allowed to keep speaking. "Why don't you let me, then, Alex?" he asked. "I suppose I can let you go back on your promise, if you make it up to me later." The little wink he threw in made him barf a little, but it was worth it, watching Datsyuk's face twist in disgust.

"Ew, man, watch it with the PDA's." he gagged on air then laughed, nudging a blank faced Kesler with his elbow as he fell into hysterics, barely managing out a gasping last word. "Get it? P-D-A: Public Displays of Affection!" he laughed again and Kesler stood, excusing himself to the loo.

Joel smiled ruefully, as ruefully as he could when his insides were celebrating triumphantly a crisis averted. "Well, now that the captive audience is out of the counting, what say you we watch the game?" he offered Jones another bag of chips to replace the one he'd already demolished, receiving a muttered 'thanks'.

"Eh." Alex sat back and stretched his arms behind his head. "You still have an audience, Pavel's okay now and Kesler will be back from the loo soon." He grinned lazily up at Joel and Pavel nodded with his words.

"Hale and healthy over here." He said raising his drink then taking a good long drink. Joel sighed and glared at Alex.

'You-are-going-to-regret-this' he mouthed. Alex just smiled sunnily.

Kesler flopped back down on the couch. "I'm back. Did I miss it?" Joel restrained himself from strangling the man. No straight man should have so much interest in a gay couple.

Alex directed a lesser version of the smile he'd been directing towards Joel at him. "Not. At. All. Joel was just about to tell." With everyone's attention suddenly on him, even Jones', Joel didn't have time to decipher the urge to growl when Alex had smiled at Kesler like that.

"Fine." He grumbled, forcing a smile when Alex nudged him with an elbow and promising swift and bloody revenge through the twitch in his smile. "We ran into each other at a gay bar, I was too drunk to recognize him, he was probably too drunk to realize it was a man he was attempting to seduce. I ravished him in an alleyway.

"Days later, memories of that night forgotten, he saw me at a café and accosted me. He clung to me and persisted so much that I realized I, too, had feelings for him. So I promptly whisked him away to my home and ravished him some more. He was forced to leave after that and we lost contact, sad thing really, and only months ago did we finally meet up again. He proposed and I reluctantly agreed." Joel bowed his end with the finish, keeping up a poker face.

"I'm guessing Alex is the receiver?" Kesler asked after a few seconds of silence. Joel blinked and looked up.

"Huh?"

"Bottom. 'Uke'. The gas tank. Flower bed. You know, the guy that gets porked." He elaborated, unperturbed by the excellent impersonation of a fish Joel was giving. "I'm sorry, was that too sudden?"

"You-" Joel floundered for the right words and Alex cut in, smiling devilishly.

"Joel still hasn't quite learned the terminology." He said with a laugh. "I haven't even heard of some of those before." Kesler smiled.

"You hear a lot of things when you're dealing with prostitutes day in day out." He didn't say anymore, leaving his words up for interpretation.

"Oh my, will you just look at the time!" Joel announced out of the blue. "It's been fun, really it has, but I'm afraid Alex and I have some errands to attend to, I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically, well he tried to, it came out more strained than he would have liked, but it would have to do.

"We've only been here for half an hour." Pavel protested as Joel stood and began cleaning up the table.

"Correct, Datsyuk, you can tell time." He shot the man a look. "I'm very sorry, _Pavel_, but Alex had arranged our little get together without discussing it with me beforehand, I'd completely forgotten to tell him what else we had to do today."

Understanding dawned on Kesler's face and he smiled. "Ah, of course. It must be _pressing_. We'll be just out of your way." He grabbed a bag of chips to take with him and helped Datsyuk to the doorway before turning back. "Oh, careful with the toe. If it doesn't set properly…" then he was pushing Datsyuk out, followed closely by a sharp eyes Jones, who'd muttered something to Alex that had the spy smiling harder as he passed.

The door shut with a definite click and Joel turned on Alex. "You _dumbass_." He growled, not raising his voice in an attempt to control his temper. "You could have compromised _everything_. They don't know that I work in the SAS, they think I spend all my days away in Africa with my extended family. Not in Wales _trying to knock sense into shite for brains_." The 'like you' was unspoken was understood and Alex stood abruptly.

"I was trying to help our cover." He argued, smile gone and replaced by a deep frown. Joel ignored the niggling feeling of 'maybe he'd gone a bit far' that came with the downturned lips and furrowed brows. "It would be strange for sure if we just secluded ourselves in the house for the duration of my stay and the mission. We have to show a united front, _in the least_ a semi-happy relationship."

Joel shook his head to rid himself of traitorous thoughts that the spy could be right and he was being too withdrawn, did he want a mission for his country to be failed because he was too stubborn to fake happiness with another man? Would he risk the security of his people to uphold his own image?

Cub-Alex didn't say anything as the thoughts rushed through Joel's head, as though he could read them, watch them begin to form a decision in Joel's brain and was content to wait. Joel had never been more confused, more unsure of the next move.

He was a sergeant in the SAS for God's sake. He knew what move he would make in ten moves, what he would do if the enemy decided a left feint instead of an anticipated right. If the medic was injured he could take over the responsibility, if the sniper was injured he could man the position, if the men didn't cover the ground fast enough he had the power to send them all packing. He was a man who never changed his mind if he believed it was the right thing, the only thing to do.

For the first time since he'd had to choose between the army and a normal life, Joel was torn. Choosing the SAS over a desk job had been easy, he'd been destined to lead and order since he was the bully of the playground. He couldn't just walk away from the responsibility Alex had placed on his shoulders the moment he'd mentioned 'mission' with no consequence.

Joel's thoughts came to an abrupt halt and his vision swayed for a split second. The throbbing pain of his broken toe pounded in his ears, harmonizing with his heartbeat. His breath was steady and tasted of potato chips and beer, when he swallowed the sound reverberated a single -gong- through his head.

And suddenly he knew.

He didn't like it, but Joel Ward, SAS training sergeant from hell, knew what he had to do. The throbbing of his toe faded back and his heart was no longer audible, swallowing again merely popped his ears the slightest bit.

His decision must have shown on his face because suddenly Alex was grinning from ear to ear, the most extraordinary one yet. "Thank you, Joel." The blond was sincere, his gratitude pure and unaltered by any animosity between them. "Thank you."

Joel rubbed his head. "It's for my country." He said, feeling a bit uncomfortable faced with such sudden thanks. It was like he was doing it all for the boy, not just his country. "I-er…shite. Um, sorry for being such a…a-"

"Douchebag?"

"Don't call me names, boy, I haven't said anything about not harming your pert little ass." Joel growled, with too little threat to his tone he reflected. Alex blinked and laughed huffily, Joel was beginning to feel rather special, a laugh reserved just for him. How nice.

"Pert little ass?" the spy repeated and laughed again. "Why, Mr. SAS Sergeant, is that the cradle robber in you?"

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled sharply. "I'm regretting this already."

* * *

><p>AN: Again. I apologize for the poop joke.

On other news: I'm going to pretend like this was posted a month ago. Sound like a plan?

I started school again and on a different time schedule this year so I get to wake up early every day and go study scriptures! Yay! Scriptures! Booo.

I have to say, I'm shocked I was finally able to get Sergeant to actually resign himself to his fate, even welcome it a little. It'll go much easier from now on for Alex, I suppose.

Thanks for waiting, reading and (maybe?) reviewing! I like to set my expectations high so the fall is longer, more time to contemplate my life choices.

-Fridgeworks


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